


lost cause

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Complicated Relationships, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24465598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The chosen one shows up unannounced at the door of her predecessor.
Relationships: Female Failed Chosen One & Female New Chosen One
Kudos: 5
Collections: Original Characters & Original Works Flash Exchange May 2020





	lost cause

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theultimateburrito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theultimateburrito/gifts).



Her replacement had such hope in her eyes. That, far more than her sudden appearance and sheepish smile, infuriated her. Without a word from the newly ordained chosen one, she knew instantly that she was, indeed, chosen. She knew that her failure to fulfill that same destiny had cost a life other than her own. She resisted the urge to slam the door in the chosen one's face, or perhaps to run out the door and never look back. Instead, she set the kettle on its hook over the fireplace and said, all feigned ignorance and innocence, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Um, are you Nadia of Kepjess?" Her voice wavered on the highest note of the question, doubt creeping in unbidden to suffocate the fleeting confidence that had no doubt been spent on barging into her living space.

Like the ceaseless tide, the fury came in waves. The most recent crest of water upon the shore proved to be too much; she turned away on the pretense of searching for mugs in the nearby cabinet. Her breath came shallower and shallower as she fought to keep the edge that the poor ensnared chosen one didn't deserve to bear the brunt of from her reply. "I'm no longer 'of Kepjess', kiddo."

She heard shuffling, the awkwardness belied by the movement obvious from the sound alone. She settled on an old pair of mugs she had crafted with her sibling once upon a time. The initial imperfections of their handiwork had not been helped by the steady march of time and the snap of the air in changing seasons. Out of courtesy to her guest, she took the one more hard done by.

"Do you take cream or sugar?" The implicit acceptance of the question conveyed by the scrape of a chair's legs against the floor diffused the tension in the air enough that Nadia risked a glance over her shoulder at the chosen one. With the mantra of insistence that she not lash out at the poor girl for something she had no control over keeping time with her breaths, she managed a quizzical look. The chosen one's gaze had not wavered from the kettle, making her wonder whether she was the only one fruitlessly building a dam against mixed emotions dredged up by their meeting. Doubtless it was hard to stare the bitter shell the consequences of your potential failure would turn you into in the face.

Nadia had concluded that she wouldn't object to a cup prepared in the same way as her host's by the time the chosen one's voice piped up, "One of each, please." Steam begun to whistle through the kettle's spout, though it was merely background noise for the moment. Nadia turned, leaning back against the counter-top in an attempt to project a calm she didn't feel.

"I can only assume you're here to ask for my help? Or advice?" Despite herself, a bitter laugh slipped through her lips on the word 'advice', as though she had anything useful to impart. "I'll let you down gently, kiddo. I lost all my power when I— when it happened and I was never much of a martial fighter." She set the two mugs, as well as a bowl of sugar and a small cup of cream at the centre of the table, an attempt at defining neutral ground between the two of them.

The chosen one reached out for her cup and poured a spoonful from each bowl into it. Her thumb traced the cracked lines of the pottery in what Nadia assumed was a nervous tick. "No... they told me what happened. This, well, seems kind of silly now that I'm actually here but I wanted to spend some time with you. Being out here alone after everything... didn't seem fair to you, I guess."

Nadia was spared the need to respond by the whistle of the kettle, giving her an excuse to turn away again. She wanted to rebuke the need for company but she couldn't do so while meeting the chosen one's eyes. Her fingers wrapped around the kettle's handle, pouring a measure for both of them before setting it back over the fire. To her surprise, she found herself suddenly speaking those forbidden words, "You don't have to do this."

Though Nadia hadn't explained her words, the chosen one seemed to pick up on the fact that she wasn't referring to her wish to spend time with her. "I do." Nadia thought she heard a trace of resignation ring her otherwise simple words. She was right, of course. It was ordained. She had no more choice than Nadia had when the gods had pronounced her fate.

A fresh surge of anger kept her silent, not trusting herself to speak without misplaced vitriol. The bitterness inside her was not tempered even by the sweetened tea that she drained the dregs from her mug. Much like that lacquered clay vessel, it had been chipping away at her for years, forming the cracks through which her hatred of the cruelty of fate now threatened to overflow. Years and years and she still wasn't sure if the way her emotions came so freely now was a blessing or a curse. A chosen one never cried, never was furious, never knelt to their weaknesses, but Nadia did.

In the ebb of the tide, she considered the chosen one. Nadia's grey eyes met her brown ones, still instilled with all that she had lost. In that moment so long avoided, she made a decision. "There's a spare bedroom upstairs, if you like. I can probably scrounge up some extra blankets."

The chosen one beamed and nodded. She placed the mug down gingerly on the table to relocate her small pack to the guest room. Her every move radiated excitement and Nadia watched her with a faint amusement until she had ascended the stairs, moving out of sight. Part of her was still convinced that what the chosen one sought to do erred too close to a defiance of the gods but Nadia hated their sanctimonious decrees enough that it did more to recommend the idea than dissuade her.

In the emptiness of the kitchen she allowed herself to admit that though the chosen one's presence dredged up anger that she'd long tried to forget, it might be nice to have company, for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a really interesting prompt to work with and getting the opportunity to vaguely hint at a character's mysterious history is always exciting for me. I hope you enjoyed the finished product!


End file.
